112 – Thirty-One


Thirty-one is like twenty-one
but ten years on. Go ahead. Play
laser tag in the park at dark.
Drink too much. Have your gluten-free cake
and eat it, too. Let your friends care
for you as you puke, just a little,
in their manicured bathroom.
Stay out later than is wise tonight.
Work comes early. Write a poem
to commemorate. Bones
and back sore, lids at half-mast,
heart-happy endure
this aging body another year.
Worse and better,
more than can be known,
to come. Happy, happy.

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